Determination
by Laelyn24
Summary: With Puddlemere looking to fill their Keeper position, girls were the last thing on Oliver Wood’s mind. He was determined to work hard and win the spot – but then she came along... Will he finally be able to have the best of both worlds?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Oliver Wood, the game of Quidditch, or the wizarding world as it was created by J.K Rowling._

_A/N: For those of you who read the other version of this chapter, I had to rewrite this for my own sanity. I've been re-reading the series and I thought I could do a better job with this story. Also, I've interpretated how the Quidditch League works based on sports leagues (mainly hockey and baseball) in the U.S., just in case you wondered. I hope you all enjoy!_

-Chapter One-

For the British and Irish Quidditch League, the month of June marked the beginning of a rigorous training season. Its purpose was to provide the coaches with a closer look at the players in the team's organization, both current and prospective, in order to build a solid team for the regular Quidditch season in the fall. It also gave the players on the reserve team a chance to showcase their skills, in the hopes of clinching one of the roster spots on the first team.

One such reserve team hopeful was Oliver Wood, who had been signed by the Puddlemere United organization straight out of school. He had just come off the best season of his young, two year career as a professional Quidditch player and was determined to make the first team for the upcoming season. His odds of making the team escalated after longtime Keeper, Tobias Kelly, announced his desire to retire from the game. Still, as Oliver was not the only Keeper vying for the position, he had to prove that he was capable of playing at the top level.

Based on his performance in their previous match, however, it appeared Oliver was determined to prove himself worthy for the position. He kept the Kenmare Kestrels scoreless in Puddlemere's two hundred and ten point victory. Though he was proud of his work in that match, Oliver knew that he would have to have similar success in the other games he played throughout the training season. After all, he was up against two other Keepers who wanted the job just as much as he did.

---

It was a warm and breezy Saturday afternoon, the golden sun shimmering behind a curtain of fluffy, white clouds. It was the kind of day that lured people from their houses, giving them a good reason to enjoy some time outdoors. For the wizard community, Quidditch fans in particular, it was the perfect day for a game of their beloved pastime.

There was a decent crowd on hand at Blackmore Pitch as Puddlemere United was playing against the Appleby Arrows. They were only a few minutes into the game and Appleby was already up six goals to one. It was not a good start for Puddlemere Keeper, Josiah Noall, who was making his first start.

From the sidelines, Oliver Wood watched with his keen eye, carefully noting Noall's technique. It was easy to spot where his weaknesses were and the Arrows seemed to be taking advantage of the situation. There was a collective groan from the United players' bench, as well as the fans, when yet another Quaffle eluded their Keeper. As much as it pained him to see a fellow Keeper struggle, Oliver relished the opportunity to scout his competition. He felt that by watching the other Keepers and learning from their mistakes, he would be able to make himself look better. With his dream just within his grasp, Oliver would do anything to make it a reality.

As the game wore on, the Puddlemere Chasers did their best to play catch up, but the Arrows always stayed a few goals ahead. Miraculously, the game ended with a Puddlemere victory when Casey McCormack managed to swipe the Golden Snitch right out from under the nose of the Appleby Seeker. It was a dismal win, but a win none-the-less.

Being early in the season, and only an exhibition match, the United players shrugged off the effortless performance. Instead, they focused on the win as they gathered in the locker room for the post game analysis with their coach, Carson Vance. When he finished, those who had played hit the showers, while everyone else changed into their street clothes, making plans to meet at a nearby pub to celebrate the third victory of the season.

"Oi, Wood. You coming out with us tonight?" Ripley Brubaker, a Beater from the reserve team, shouted from across the room. He gave a smirk as he laced up his tennis shoes, well aware that his invitation would be declined.

Oliver gave his head a shake; very rarely did he join the team in their post game festivities. He preferred the quiet solitude of his apartment, where he could go over the areas of his game that might need work before the next match. Those who had played with him on the reserve team expected nothing less from the Keeper, having experienced the fanatical passion for the game that he possessed. Ripley replied with a shrug; he always had to ask just in case.

As he exited the locker room, Oliver was followed by Ripley and, fellow Beater, Quincy Carlisle.

"What are you going to do when Wood actually agrees, Bru?" quipped Quincy.

Ripley slung a thick arm around Oliver's shoulders and grinned. "I'll buy all his drinks for the night."

Chuckling, Quincy pushed open the door that would take them away from the pitch. As they stepped outside, the boys were greeted by a small group of fans, mostly witches, waiting to bombard their favorite players with autograph and photo requests. The response to their appearance was immediate as people hurried forward to be the first to the players.

There were a few exceptions, but for the most part Oliver enjoyed the interaction with the fans. He had acquired quite a following over those two years on the reserve team; at first, the attention was a bit overwhelming, as it usually was for a young player, but he learned quickly that it was something that came with the job. Most of his fans appreciated his talent and what he could bring to the team. The female fans, however, chose to focus on his good looks rather than his ability to play the game. It wasn't something that particularly bothered Oliver; he was just pleased to have fans at all.

Looking up from the broomstick he was signing, Oliver grinned when he caught sight of Quincy and Ripley. The two were standing on either side of a young witch, who looked beside herself with delight, as her friend snapped a photo. There was a scurry toward the locker room door, which signaled the appearance of more team members.

Oliver was just signing a bit of parchment for a small witch, no older than six, when someone shouted his name over the buzz of voices. Raising his gaze toward the source, he saw Ripley waving animatedly from distance. Shaking his head with a short laugh, Oliver responded with a grin and a nod just before Ripley Disapparated. How did he always manage to make such a quick get away, Oliver wondered.

It was in that moment, after Ripley disappeared, that Oliver noticed a girl standing off a short distance from the crowd. She was leaned casually against a lamp post, her face tilted skyward, which gave Oliver the distinct impression that she had no interest in the scene before her.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wood. Could I please have my parchment back?" the little girl asked, tugging on his coat to regain his attention.

Oliver gaze slide back to the small wide-eyed girl in front of him. He hadn't realized the distraction caused him to pause in the middle of an autograph. Quickly scribbling the rest of his name on the parchment, Oliver handed it back with a smile.

"Come back and cheer for Puddlemere again, yeah?"

"I sure will," she chirped happily, scurrying off to where her parent were waiting. They gave Oliver a friendly smile as their daughter waved the paper eagerly in their faces.

He barely had time to return the smile when he was accosted by a small group of twittering girls. They occupied the next fifteen minutes of Oliver's time with a whirlwind of questions, pictures, and autographs. He was glad when the last of their merchandise was signed and they scurried away toward Connor Mansfield, a Chaser who was easily the fan favorite.

The thought of making his way home had just crossed Oliver's mind when Quincy practically tackled him from behind. Oliver steadied himself as Quincy laughed.

"Come on, Wood. Come out with us tonight. I want to see the look on Bru's face when you walk in. What do you say?"

Oliver stared at Quincy for a moment, considering. It wouldn't hurt to go out with the team. He hadn't played in the game, and wasn't scheduled to play in the next game so he really didn't have anything to do when he got home. Also, it might be good to get to know the other players, since there was the possibility of playing with them come fall. Oliver nodded.

"Alright, sure."

Quincy's eyes brightened with a hint of disbelief. "You're serious?"

Oliver nodded once more, grinning sheepishly.

"You've got to hold Bru to his promise," Quincy said, clapping Oliver heartily on the back. "He's going to have to buy your drinks all night."

* * *

_A/N: If you could leave your thoughts in the form of a review I would be very grateful! Thanks!_

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

-Chapter Two-

Hidden in the forest that bordered the village of Todber, completely unknown to the local Muggles, sat a pub by the name of the Duck and Puddle. It was a popular place to stop for a pint, or two, or three, after taking in a match at Blackmore Pitch, no matter the outcome. As it happened, much to the delight of the fans, the pub was the favorite watering hole for the Puddlemere United team, who often gathered there to celebrate a win.

Oliver and Quincy Apparated a short distance in front of the pub. From the outside, the Duck and Puddle looked like any ordinary rustic cottage plopped in the middle of the woods, complete with a shabby thatched roof. All the windows were dark, and some of them were boarded up, giving the impression that the place was abandoned. Its appearance alone would keep any Muggles, who happened across it, from getting too close, though it had other security measures to ensure the pub's privacy.

When Quincy pulled open the door, the silence of the surrounding forest was punctured by the pub's soundtrack, loud music intermingled with voices of the punters. Stepping inside the two boys swept the scene for a familiar face. It didn't take long to spot one; Hurley Turner, team Seeker, was flagging them toward the far corner where the early arrivals had already laid a claim on a couple of booths.

As the pair approached, Ripley Brubaker's eyes nearly fell from his head. He quickly recovered though, a wide grin stretching across his face.

"Mark this one in the books, lads. It's probably the one and only time we'll see Wood outside the pitch," Ripley exclaimed, clapping Oliver on the shoulder, as he slid into his seat. A bit of light cheering followed his comment, but Oliver ignored it, joining them at their booth.

"What are you drinking tonight, Wood?" Quincy asked him with a smirk. His eyes wandered between Oliver and Ripley.

Ripley caught on instantly, cutting in before Oliver had a chance to respond. "Well, whatever it is, you make sure to put it on my bill."

Oliver nodded, reaching for a menu. He hadn't eaten a thing since a light breakfast before the match, and hunger was beginning to settle in. It had been awhile since his last visit, so it took him a moment to look over his options. In the end, Oliver figured he couldn't go wrong with the traditional fish and chips.

With their orders in and their drinks positioned readily in front of them, talk turned to the afternoon's match. And much to Oliver's pleasure and slight discomfort, they focused on the Keeper's performance.

"Well, if it wasn't for all those goals the Kid scored for us, the win would have been much narrower," pointed out Hurley Turner, the first team Seeker. "We may not have even won."

The Kid, as the team had taken to calling him, affectionately referred to a prospective player by the name of Brysten Whitman. At the age of seventeen, with a year still left in school, he was easily the youngest person training with the team. Impressed by the numbers he put up on his school team, Puddlemere wanted to have a look at him, with the hopes of signing him next year.

"Yeah, he did play brilliantly," added Chaser Zola Bieksa. "It was such a relief when Casey caught the Snitch. I must admit, it was looking bad there for a while."

Carefully absorbing the conversation, Oliver nodded in agreement, but decided it best to keep his mouth shut. He didn't want to openly criticize Josiah Noall's less-than-stellar match, because he didn't want to appear to sure of himself this early in the season, and besides they were, more or less, on the same team. At the same time, however, he couldn't help the satisfaction of knowing he had outplayed his competition so far.

---

Perhaps it was because of the promising talent that Puddlemere was packing, or maybe it was just because of the weather, but the crowd at the Duck and Puddle was an unusual size for this time of year. Typically business didn't really start to pick up until a few games into the regular season, but then again, no could complain. There was good food, good drinks, and good company, which was all it took to keep the patrons satisfied; the steady sales kept the owner happy.

Slowly, but eventually, the entire Puddlemere team had found their way from the pitch to the pub. Some of the fans, thought to have been left behind to ogle their autographs, appeared to have followed. It wasn't long before the team was scattered around, talking shop with the locals, chatting up a fan, or even dancing to the music. Everyone was having a lovely time, including Oliver, who was talking with fellow reserve player and Seeker, Jarrett Jones.

The conversation was interrupted when Caylor Teagarden and Casey McCormack, a Beater and Seeker respectively, plopped down at the table. The two girls insisted that they play a game of Exploding Snap. Since there wasn't a reason for Oliver and Jarrett to decline, the game began.

Several rounds later, when his glass was empty, Oliver excused himself and went to the bar for a refill. Sliding onto a stool, he waited for the barman, who was busy with other customers. As he waited, Oliver passed the time by checking his watch. He was quite surprised to find that it was getting late into the evening. Perhaps, just one more drink and then he would head home. When the barman neared him, Oliver placed his order for a Cider drink. Just as he was informing the man to put it on Ripley's tab, a crisp voice rang out next to him,

"Could I have two Butterbeers. Put them on that same tab, please."

Oliver glanced to his left. Standing next to him, elbows resting on top of the bar, was a girl with russet-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was the same girl that he had seen earlier at the pitch, standing away from the crowd. She seemed to be in higher spirits than had been, bobbing her head in time with the music while she waited. Her eyes flickered toward Oliver; she flashed a friendly smile when she caught his gaze. Oliver grinned, but looked away, slightly embarrassed that he had been staring at her. After a moment, his eyes darted in her direction again, and he was surprised to find that she was now staring at him. It was a soft, calculating expression, similar to that of someone reading a map. Oliver's eyebrows pinched together curiously and a crooked little smile pulled at his lips.

"Rough game tonight, eh?" she said, looking at him thoughtfully.

Oliver shrugged. "It wasn't all bad."

"No, I suppose not. They could have used more support from that Keeper though. I've seen better, even at Hogwarts."

"You went to Hogwarts?" Oliver was certain he would have remembered her if she had.

"I _go_ to Hogwarts actually," she said with an amused smile. "Just finished my sixth year."

Oliver wanted to ask her what house she was in, but was interrupted as the barman banged their drinks on the counter in front of them, sloshing a bit of the Butterbeer over the top. He scurried away as soon as they muttered their thanks. Oliver dragged his glass closer to him, looking down at it, deciding what to say next, but she beat him to it.

"I better get these drinks back," she said, nodding away from the bar. "See you around."

"Yeah, see you," Oliver replied quietly. He watched her walked toward a table where a few of the players were gathered. She slid into the seat next to Brysten Whitman and pushed one of the Butterbeers to him. They seemed friendly with one another, not like they had just met one another. Oliver could only assume that she had been waiting for Brysten after the game.

If she was Brysten's girlfriend then Oliver would probably see her around, as he and Brysten were sharing a flat for the summer. Oliver's thoughts were interrupted by Jarrett, asking him to come back to the table; they needed a fourth player for their card game. Oliver agreed, following Jarrett back to the table where Caylor and Casey waited, giggling about something or other.

It was a rather late night for Oliver, but worth the time getting to know his teammates. Having fun every once in a while couldn't hurt, could it?

* * *

_A/N: I hope the various Quidditch players wasn't too confusing. Any feedback you can give would be great! Thanks! _


	3. Chapter 3

-Chapter Three-

Waking up the following morning, Oliver groaned and rolled over to check the time. His heart skipped a beat, and then rabbited around in his chest when he saw that it was nearing eleven o'clock. He pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes darting anxiously around the room--and then he remembered that it was Sunday. The revelation washed over him in a wave of relief, bringing down his heart rate to where the vital organ didn't feel like it was going to come shooting from his torso. Falling backward onto his pillow, Oliver drew in a few deep breaths to further calm himself.

After a few minutes--where he stared fixedly at the ceiling trying to remember the last time he had slept in until eleven o'clock, but try as he might, he couldn't come up with anything--Oliver sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Rising to his feet, Oliver stumbled sleepily across the room to the door. Draped over the doorknob was a white bath towel, which Oliver grabbed, snapping it over his shoulder before he stepped out into the small living room that he shared with his teammate, Brysten.

The apartment wasn't very large, but the conditions were comfortable for the two young Quidditch players. They each had their own bedrooms, situated opposite one another on either side of the living room, but they had to share a bathroom. The apartment also had a small kitchen, which didn't get a whole lot of use, expect at breakfast; neither of the boys wanted to cook after a hard day's training, so their trash bin was always overflowing with take-away containers from nearby restaurants.

Oliver's room was next to the kitchen, on the right side of the apartment, which meant that he had to make a short journey across the living room to get to the bathroom.

Just as he was grappling for the doorknob, the door gave way and Oliver was treated to his second heart-stopping sight that morning, as it was not Brysten on the other side. Instead, standing just inside the bathroom was the girl he has talked with last night at the pub--the one he assumed to be Brysten's girlfriend. It wasn't an assumption any longer.

She inhaled sharply, eyes wide with surprise to find him standing outside the door, wearing nothing but an old pair of gym shorts. At the sight of him, her ears reddened and she carefully avoided looking at him.

Oliver felt the blood surge instantly to his cheeks. His eyebrows twitched with embarrassment; his mind went numb, keeping him lost for words. After a few tense seconds, he finally had the good sense to move aside so that she could pass. His lips came together in an apologetic smile as he tried out a few words.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to-"

With a fleeting glance at him, she grinned and dipped her head, acknowledging his attempt at an apology before she scurried into Brysten's room. The door fell shut behind her, leaving Oliver to stare at its wooden panels.

It wasn't like this situation--having a roommate with a girlfriend--was new to Oliver. His roommate last summer had a bunch of different girlfriends over the course of the six week season; Oliver spent a lot of time trying to avoid the awkward morning run-ins with the girls. It had been his hope that this season would be different from the last because he was sharing a flat with Brysten, who seemed to have his priorities in check. Oliver had been fairly confident that this summer would be free of such awkward encounters--apparently he had thought wrong.

---

Showered and freshly clothed, Oliver's mind was set on breakfast--or more appropriately, given the time, lunch. It did not surprise him in the least--considering how his morning started--to find that the kitchen was already occupied. Brysten and his guest were sitting opposite one another, the Daily Prophet spread out between them; their empty bowls set off to one side. They both looked up at Oliver as he crossed to the refrigerator.

Brysten cracked a smile. "Glad you're up. I was about to send in a search party. I think it's the first time I've been up before you." He chuckled, offering further explanation to his guest. "Normally, he's up at the crack of dawn."

"I am not," Oliver protested, pulling out a carton of milk and tipping some of the contents into a glass. "At least not every day."

"Any time before ten o'clock is early for you, Brysten," noted his guest with laugh. "I can't believe you've managed to make it to all the trainings on time."

Brysten shrugged. "I'm still on a school schedule, I suppose. I'm having an excellent time, but it's hardly a holiday. It's a lot of work."

Nodding his agreement, Oliver sat down in the empty chair with his glass of milk, cereal bowl, and stack of toast.

"Oh, Oliver," Brysten said suddenly, a thought occurring to him. "I hope you don't mind that Dayla stayed over last night. It's just our parents went out of town for the weekend, and since she came for the game, I figured she might as well stay here for the night."

Oliver blinked a few times, looking between the two of them.

"Your parents?" he repeated slowly and Brysten nodded.

Seeing the two of them side by side, Oliver could see the similarities in their features. They both had a pair of steely blue eyes, set on either side of a slightly up-turned nose. The same color of russet-brown sprouted from the tops of their heads, framing the oval shape of their faces. It was quite obvious that they were siblings.

Dayla reached a hand across the table. "We didn't get the chance to be properly introduced last night. I'm Dayla Whitman, Brysten is my brother."

"Twin brother, if you want to get technical," Brysten added.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver shook her hand and smiled. "How long will you be staying?"

"Oh, our parents are due back this evening," she explained. "I'll leave when you two do."

Oliver quirked a brow and shifted his gaze to Brysten. "We're going somewhere?"

Brysten lifted the corner of the Prophet and pulled a bit of parchment out from under it, handing it to Oliver.

"Coach Vance wants us at the pitch by three. It looks like we'll be split up by position to go over last night's game. We play Falmouth next match; I suppose they want us to be ready, eh?"

"Yeah, if we played like yesterday, we don't stand a chance against them," Oliver said, glancing at the note scrawled by their coach.

"Isn't it only an exhibition match? The wins and losses don't mean anything, do they?" Dayla asked, interested.

"Not in the first couple of week, since they are trying out all the different players. After the third week, that's when things really start to pick up," Oliver explained, waving a bit of toast around as he spoke. "The management starts to look at the numbers and the outcome, because the players they are considering for first team will have more game time."

"Oh, great!" Brysten sighed. "That means I won't be playing as much, because I'm not eligible to play in the regular season."

"Eh, not necessarily," Oliver assured him. "I mean, if you keep playing like you have been, they might play you anyway: just to give you that experience for next summer."

"Think about what you'll bring to the Hufflepuff team after all this, Bry. I wouldn't be surprised if your house puts together a good team this year and wins the Quidditch Cup; at least maybe you can beat Slytherin," Dayla said, nodding encouragingly.

"That's true, but I think I'd like to just get through this summer first," Brysten replied.

Oliver agreed with that wholeheartedly. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

_A/N: Seriously, a review would be lovely! _

_Jess - Since you've reviewed anonymously I can't PM you. I just wanted to say thanks so much. And I'm glad my portrayal of Oliver is not too far off from what you've imagined._


	4. Chapter 4

-Chapter Four-

"Puddlemere Chaser Mansfield drops the Quaffle back to Wadcock. Jocalind Wadcock swerves around the oncoming Wimbourne Beater, McKeown, with a nifty move. She's in all alone with Wasp Keeper, Nelson--fakes a throw; drops the Quaffle to teammate Whitman, who--scores! Brysten Whitman with a great shot on the right side gives Puddlemere their second goal of the game, but the Wasps still lead 30-20."

The voice of the commentator echoed across the stadium as the Puddlemere fans went into a frenzy; Wasp fans booed as Brysten Whitman took a short victory lap before play continued.

"Wow, folks, do we have an excellent match under way here at Blackmore Pitch. Puddlemere United is really holding their own against this hard-hitting Wimbourne team. Play resumes with the Wasps in possession--Luke Beaudry darts out from behind the Wimbourne goal, headed down the pitch. Beaudry nearly gets decapitated by a Bludger--compliments of Ripley Brubaker--and losses the Quaffle. His teammate, Cole Hotham, recovers the Quaffle and continues up the pitch, dodging a block by Whitman. Hotham--gaining the zone--passes to Michael Ryder. The two Wasp Chasers toss the ball between them, trying to throw off the Puddlemere Keeper as they close in. What an outstanding save by Oliver Wood; he wasn't fooled for a minute! Wood launches the Quaffle down the pitch to Connor Mansfield--"

Oliver pumped his fist in the air to relieve the rush of energy that had bubbled up after the save. It wasn't another shut out, but he was fairing well against a physical Wimbourne team. Flying out a bit from his post at the center goal, Oliver watched intently as the play developed down-field.

The Puddlemere crowd at Wasps' end were suddenly on their feet, calling for a penalty shot after one of the Wimbourne Beaters cracked Brysten--who didn't even have the Quaffle--around the shoulder with her club. All the Puddlemere players were irate as the play continued on; Oliver let his objections be heard from his end of the pitch, but he quickly had to regain his focus as the Wasp Chasers headed his way--

"Another spectacular save by the United's Keeper. Wait a tick--I do believe the Snitch has been spotted. Hurley Turner rockets down the pitch with Hannah O'Connor hot on his heels. O'Connor gaining; Turner extends--yes! Hurley Turner gets the Snitch for the Puddlemere victory. It's a 170-20 win for the United; they bounced back nicely after that grueling loss to Falmouth earlier in the week," the commentator finalized over the loud cheering of the Puddlemere fans.

Oliver looped around the goals and then joined the rest of the team, huddled in the middle of the field congratulating one another on a well-played match. The celebrations continued all the way into the locker room; they didn't let up as their coach tried to talk with them.

"Alright, settle down now," Coach Vance said firmly, after their shenanigans had gone on long enough. "There will be plenty of time for celebration later."

The team slowly sank into silence, but it was a highly amused tension that had everyone looking at each other with smirks as their coach carried on.

"Well done tonight, lads. Everyone was on their game. We're only two weeks into training, but I can see the makings of a very strong team for the fall, especially if we continue to play like tonight. Hurley, that was a nice capture tonight--good eyes."

Hurley nodded with a grin as the rest of the team gave a little cheer.

"Mansfield, Wadcock, and Whitman, excellent execution on the plays we've been discussing."

Jocalind Wadcock grinned. Connor and Brysten high-fived one another. The rest of the team whistled and applauded.

"Wood. You have some great saves out there; keep it up."

Another cheer from the others, but Oliver simply nodded.

"Bru. Carlisle," Vance said, nodding to each of them in turn. "No penalties tonight, boys. It's a job well done."

Everyone chuckled; even Coach Vance had a smile on his face.

"We'll meet here tomorrow at one o'clock to run some drills. Alright, hit the showers."

Oliver sat for a few minutes, collecting his thoughts on the match. As usual, he knew there were a few things that he could have done differently, but overall he was satisfied with the effort of his performance. Someone clapped him on the back, pulling him out of his meditative trance.

"Don't think on it too much, Wood. You had a great game," Merek Hudson said as he walked by, all ready changed into his streets clothes.

Oliver gave a short grin and a nod. "Thanks."

And with that, Oliver gathered his things and headed for the showers.

---

There was a mob waiting outside the pitch again, but fortunately for Oliver most of them were occupied by the players who had come out before him. Still, his appearance brought a few people forward, asking for the typical picture and autograph. This time, however, instead of a large group hovering around him, he had a constant stream of one or two people approach him at a time; it was almost more painful than being bombarded all at once, because a few times he thought he could get free but someone else would walk over to him.

About halfway through the seemingly unending line of fans, Oliver caught a glimpse of Dayla; she was standing away from the crowd, watching them like she had before. He wanted to go over and say hello, but his current situation kept him from doing so. Oliver slowly made his way over toward her, hoping that when there was a break in the action he would be able to talk with her.

An opportunity came after Dayla had been asked to snap a picture of Oliver and one of his fans. The girl said her friends had run off to talk with Jarrett Jones, so she didn't have any one else to take the photo for her. She thanked both of them and hurried off to rejoin her friends.

"Hey Oliver," Dayla said, greeting him with a laugh. "So, this is why you do it, eh? All the adoring fangirls?"

"I suppose that's part of it." Oliver grinned. He nodded toward the camera hanging around her neck. "And whose photo are you hoping for?"

"Oh, this. I was hoping to get a few good shots of Brysten for my mum and dad; they've been so busy that they haven't had a chance to come down here to see him." Dayla gave a shrug.

Oliver was just about to reply, but they were interrupted as a pair of girls walked up to him. The girl with the short, spiky brown hair had her eyes glued on Oliver, giving him the once over, while the other, who had curly, black locks, shot a dark look at Dayla. The short-haired girl brushed her hand over Oliver's shoulder and smirked.

"Hiya Oliver," she said in a syrupy sweet voice. "You played brilliantly today."

"Er--thanks," Oliver replied, the tips of his ears tinging pink. His eyes slid over to Dayla, who had her lips pressed tightly together, looking highly amused.

"So, Ripley is having a party tonight; I was wondering if you were going to be there?" she asked, batting her eyelashes, in what she must have considered a flirtatious manner, but it looked more like she had something in her eyes.

There was a snort from a few feet away and Dayla quickly clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out with laughter. Both girls aimed glares at her and then turned back to Oliver. Distracted, he was quickly trying to formulate a reply.

"Well, I--uh--I won't be going. I have some--uh--things I need to do tonight. Sorry," he said, giving them a poor excuse, but hoping it would suffice.

"Are you sure you can't come Oliver? I was really hoping you would," she replied with a pout.

"Sorry-"

"We would have so much fun. I promise." She was smirking again.

"Look, he said he's not going, alright?" Dayla suddenly interjected, stepping forward. There was no more laughter in her eyes; they hardened as she set them on the two girls, who looked scandalized by the intrusion. "So why don't you just leave it."

The girl, who had done all of the talking, furrowed her eyebrows, giving Dayla a look of utter dislike. She gave a huff, turned on her heel, and marched away. Her friend glared darkly at Dayla for a moment longer before following.

Dayla rolled her eyes when their back were turned. Looking back at Oliver, she grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, but I couldn't stand much more of that."

Shaking his head, Oliver chuckled. "Don't be sorry. I'm relieved actually. I don't think she was going to take no for an answer."

"It's pathetic, is what it is."

"Yeah. So, thanks for that. I owe you."

"No problem. I wonder if Brysten gets a lot of that? Ugh, it would be aweful."

"Does Brysten get a lot of what?" said a voice coming up behind them. They turned to see Brysten looking at them curiously.

"I want to know if you've got a lot fans desperately throwing themselves at you?" Dayla replied, raising her brows.

"Not yet, why?"

Oliver explained, "I just had one. Wanted me to go to Bru's party with her-"

"It was revolting, really. You had better be careful, the pair of you; one of those girls could do a spell on you if they get desperate enough."

"Eh, they are harmless," Oliver replied with a shrug.

Brysten gave a chuckled. "So, you're not coming to Ripley's party then, Oliver?"

"No. I'm going to go back to the flat. I've got some things to do," he explained vaguely, not wanting to go into detail about his post-game rituals.

"Well, if you get finished, you should come by; celebrate the win with us," Brysten offered, nodding encouragingly.

Dayla smile. "Yeah, Oliver, you should come."

"Well, I better be off; lots to do. I'll see you guys later," Oliver said, ignoring their suggestions to attend the party. They said good-bye and he walked a few paces before Disapparating, hoping the flush in his face wasn't noticeable.

He had gotten a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach when Dayla had said he should go to the party. It was the same feeling he always had after making a particularly good save, one where he had to do some quick acrobatics on the broom; it was strangely satisfying, this feeling.

* * *

_A/N: I encourage you to review! It's helpful with motivation! :-)_

_Jess - Thank you so much again! I really appreciate the feedback! I don't mind leaving a little note down here for ya! No biggie! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well._


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